


Aiding and A-Betting

by keep_me_alone



Series: Batfamily Ficlets [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned), Bad Puns, Barbara Gordon (mentioned) - Freeform, Bat Daddy, Bat Family, Bruce Wayne Tries, Excessive Swearing, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Grumpy Bruce, Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Injury, Memes, Stupidity, Swearing, a lot of memes, bat family fluff, daddy bats, millennial humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-18 07:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_me_alone/pseuds/keep_me_alone
Summary: Dick, Jason, Tim and Steph get up to some really stupid shenanigans in the Manor while no one is around. As expected, it doesn't really go well for any of them and Bruce gets real mad.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the formatting, I wrote this on my phone lmao  
> I de-aged Dick a little bit, just cause I thought it would be more fun as I think Nightwing is too much like Batman to have this kind of fun and I like pre-emo Dick better  
> P.S. Bruce is a lot grumpier than usual in this fic, more Dark Knight than silver era  
> P.P.S. sorry abt the pun in the title

"Aww Tim why don't you wanna play?" Dick pouted at the teenager. 

"Because I'm supposed to be the smart one, remember?" he reflected a short moment, "I will judge, though."  Grinning, Dick shoved him playfully.

“Wait, where's Damian? We should ask him." Jason said.

"Absolutely not." Tim crossed his arms. "If Damian's in, I'm out."

"Agreed," replied Dick, "do you know how much trouble we'd get in if he cracked his little skull open?" 

" _You_ might get in shit," Jason said, smirking.

"That's exactly the point," Tim replied. "It was _your_ idea and _I'd_ get in trouble for it."

"It's not my fault B likes me best," Jason grinned. 

"Or maybe he’s just used to lowering his expectations," Tim shot back.

"Alright kiddos that's enough," Steph broke in before the banter could turn into a real fight.  

Dick agreed. “No Damian, no fighting.”

“Shakira, Shakira,” whispered Jason, prompting Tim to roll his eyes.

The group left Tim’s room; the room they’d so loudly broken into. They traipsed down to the main hall, careful to be quiet on the stairs. Alfred was all the way up on the fifth floor and there was no way he would hear them, but none of them really wanted to be caught horsing around inside. Jason had specifically timed things so that Alfred would be occupied for the better part of the afternoon. He wouldn’t say what he’d done, but the other three really hoped it didn’t involve leaving a huge mess. Both because Alfred deserved better, and because none of them wanted to sit in on that particular lecture.  
  
The front hall, when they finally reached it, was fantastic. The high ceiling boasted a huge crystal chandelier. Two twin staircases climbed the room to meet at a massive balcony. The potted plants and marble statues were tasteful, but spoke to great wealth. The only more impressive room in the house was potentially the ballroom. Of course, none of the children were allowed within ten feet of it, unless there was an event on. Granted, Jason could've broken them in, but Alfred had scrubbed the floors to perfection and they were all pretty sure not even Batman would save them if they scuffed it up.  
  
Jason, Steph and Dick stood with their backs to the staircase, Tim in front of them, his arms folded.

"This is a basic game of H.O.R.S.E..” he began, “usual rules apply. You must copy the other person exactly and you _must_ stick the landing. If you miss the landing or fall on your turn, it is the next person's turn. First one to spell horse...?" He trailed off, letting them set their own terms for the bet.

"Loser has to leak their own nudes to the press." Jason said immediately.

"Done." Agreed Dick almost as quickly. "But they have to be artistic and someone else has to take the pictures." Jason grinned.

"I like the way you think, Dick." He winked. "We should ask Babs which news outlet's been giving us the best coverage."

"And isn’t that just like men, sending the poor reporters unsolicited nudes.” Steph rolled her eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dick protested, “all of my nudes are meticulously labelled. No one sees this dick who doesn’t want to.” He grinned at his own pun. Steph rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. Anyways, that's all very well and good, but I can't just be spreading my nudes around. The political implications are _way_ worse for me."

"Fine," Jason huffed. "If you lose," he tapped his chin. "You have to "accidentally" call Bruce daddy at the dinner table." 

"Jason," Dick protested. 

"No, it's fine." Steph smirked. "Because I'm gonna win."

"Ok," Tim continued in his Making a Speech voice. "As the oldest-,"

"And the prettiest, " Dick interrupted, prompting eye rolls from the other three. 

"Dick goes first, " Tim finished, dropping the voice. 

"Alright, I'll start you kids off with an easy one, " Dick grinned. The group moved to make room for him. Dick ran at the wall between the staircases. He did a handspring, ran up the wall, pushed off the top and did a double back flip, landing perfectly, both arms in the air.

"Handspring and double back flip, nice. Steph?" Tim said, once again sounding very official. 

"Easy."  She copied Dick, adding an extra back flip on the way down. Her landing wasn't as pretty as Dick's, but it was still solid. 

"Does she get a letter for that?" Jason muttered. Tim ignored him. Jason did the handspring and double flip. He crossed his arms. "My turn." Jason ran at the same wall, jumped straight up and caught the balcony at the space between bannister and floor. He did a sort of pull up, launching himself up to grab the top of the bannister. He kicked off the wall with both feet, pulled himself into a handstand on the bannister, let go with one hand and allowed one leg to list to the side to make a kind of star shape, then dismounted. 

"I don't even know what to call that," Tim muttered, disgusted. Jason was leaning against the wall, looking smug. Dick followed him, with only a little difficulty on the pull up jump. Steph missed that jump completely. She landed on her feet, swearing loudly. Jason whooped and high-fived Dick. 

"An H. for Steph." Tim called. Steph swore again. She stomped up to the top of the staircase. 

"Alright Todd, let's see if you can do this." She grabbed the bannister with both hands, flipping into a handstand, bringing her long legs up slowly, one at a time. Steph walked on her hands to where the rail descended. She moved slowly down the bannister, somewhere between a cartwheel and a handspring, the muscles on her arms standing out with effort. The boys watched, each holding their breath. Near the bottom where the railing leveled out, Steph allowed herself to gain momentum. She flew off the end of the rail in one graceful, perfect flip. Tim and Jason cheered wildly.   
Dick shouted, "she's beauty she's grace," and they all finished, "she'll punch you in the face!" Steph whooped, punching the air.

"Beat that," she smiled fiercely. Jason snorted.

"Nah, no. I'm not looking to break my neck, thanks. I'll take the H., Dick?" Dick cracked his knuckles. He swung himself up the same way Steph had, one leg gracefully following the other. However, he was already pretty sure that he was going to win, and in trying to show off, went much too quickly. Coming out of one of the turns, his foot landed partially off the bannister. When he stepped down, his foot slid off the polished wood, and Dick went with it. He yelled at the same time Steph did. As he fell, he managed to twist himself around like a cat to land in a half crouch, his fingertips touching the ground. Jason booed from the top of the stairs.

"Sloppy," Tim shook his head. "You really cleaned up there, Steph." 

"Told you I’m gonna win." She wiggled her eyebrows.   
  
The game progressed quickly and soon they were coming up to the end of things. Jason had earned his O. after failing to execute enough flips on his way down from the chandelier. It was really more of a fall, if he was being honest. That trick had earned Dick imaginary extra points from Tim, but a lot of dirty looks from Jason. For her part, Steph was just glad none of them had actually broken the chandelier. Shortly thereafter, Jason then earned an R. by failing to land a stunt on his own turn. Steph collected her O. when her arms gave out as she tried walking up the stairs on her hands, but it made her feel better that that one had almost gotten Dick too.  Her R. was the product of a poorly timed flip and a resulting fall on one of Dick's ever difficult maneuvers.  Dick, the Flying Grayson, never got more than his H. By this point in the game, no one but Steph had managed to give both competitors a letter on the same trick.

It was Dick's turn again and the three competitors were back at the top of the stairs.  Dick stood on the bannister, facing the balcony, his back to the open air. He seemed to simply fall back, though in reality he'd put quite a bit of force into the movement. He whirled through a breathtaking sequence of twists, falling headfirst towards the marble floor. Dick landed on his hands, pushed himself up into a flip and landed in a front split, dramatically throwing his torso back and an arm across his face. His chest heaved with effort. No one made a sound. 

"Well?" Dick demanded, moving his hand so he could see his audience.

"Holy shit," Tim muttered.

"That was fucked,” Jason informed him. 

"You up to it?" asked Dick somewhat smugly as he dusted himself off.

"I can try," Steph replied, half laughing. "That was beautiful."

"Thank you." Dick replied pleased that _someone_ appreciated him.

Steph mounted the bannister. Her fall backwards wasn't nearly as graceful as Dick's. The manoeuvre was extremely difficult and she knew she'd missed some of the turns, but she didn't know whether Tim or Dick had seen. Closing quickly on the floor, her nerve deserted her, and twisting herself upright, she bounced on her heels, flipped, and sank into a forward split, scowling. The three onlookers groaned collectively. 

"Good effort," Dick told her, clapping her on the shoulder when she stood and joined them. "I think you missed a twist anyways." 

"And a flip." Tim confirmed. "That's an S. for you."

"And an F. for U.," Steph muttered.

"Alright, settle down," Jason cut in impatiently. He was already on the bannister. Once he had their attention, he turned his back to them. Jason’s bounce backwards was a good deal more forceful than Dick or Steph's had been, but he was doing it. He was less graceful than Dick, more utilitarian, but there was still a beauty to Jason's movements. And even until the last moment, hurtling towards the ground, it looked like he was going to make it. Then as his hands made contact with the ground, a door opened.

"What is this?" Bruce demanded.  Jason's concentration broke. He landed flat on his palms, elbows locked. There was a sickening crunch and at the same time Jason cried out. Bruce dropped his briefcase and was next to him in an instant. 

"Jason!" Bruce helped roll him onto his back. The noise Jason made was somewhere between a grunt and a yell. 

"Son… of a… fucking whore," he managed between gasps. He was half panting, half laughing, releasing a never-ending stream of creative expletives. The other three crowded around. 

"Fuck Jason, are you ok?" Dick asked. 

"I flew," he laughed. "Did you see me, Dick?" 

"I think we all did," muttered Tim. 

"That was fucking awesome," said Jason.

"No, it was stupid," Bruce growled

"Yeah, no offense Jason, but your arm's looking a little mangled there." Steph pointed out. 

"Yeah," Jason gasped, "hurts like a mother fucker. Still cool though." He struggled to push himself up with his good arm, but Bruce held his shoulders down. 

"Dick, go get Alfred. You," he said to Jason, "hold still. You're in shock."

"Are you sure?" Steph asked. "He seems pretty normal to me." Bruce turned to glare at her. "Right," she muttered scuffing her toe on the polished floor. "I'ma just go," she dragged the word out as she backed towards the door.

"I'd like to have… a chat with you and the boys first." Bruce said, with deadly calm. Steph stopped and shared a wide-eyed look with Tim. 

"Yes sir," she said through her teeth, grimacing at the floor.   


* * *

It took quite a while for Alfred to set Jason's arm.  While they waited, Bruce sat with Tim, Steph and Dick in the most formal siting room. It was silent except for the sharp ticking of the grandfather clock. Bruce looked steadily at all of them. Tim squirmed uncomfortably. He felt like he might throw up, and was internally reminding himself that he hadn't done anything wrong. Steph wasn't much better. She avoided Bruce’s gaze like a guilty puppy, occasionally sneaking looks at him. Here she was, tearing up Wayne Manor like she lived here, when in reality, she probably couldn’t even afford their dog food. Dick was, to all appearances, unconcerned. He didn't lower his eyes like Tim and Steph, or seem to make himself smaller. He had one arm draped over the back of the couch and both feet up on the coffee table, like that was where they belonged. He been with Bruce too long for this to really get to him. After all, he _had_ seen the man interrogate criminals before.

The clock chimed the hour. Tim jumped. The door opened and Jason slid through. He perched on the arm of the couch next to Dick, and they all looked expectantly at Bruce, who leaned back and folded his arms.

"So," he said slowly, "who wants to tell me what you were all doing?" No one answered. The only one who truly wasn't tense was Jason, a little strung out on pain meds. "Tim?" The boy in question winced slightly. 

"I wasn't even doing anything," he mumbled at the floor. Bruce raised an eyebrow. "It was Jason's idea." Tim protested, still not looking.

"Snitch," Jason muttered. 

"Quiet." Bruce said.

Dick sighed. "We were just messing around, Bruce."

"Jason's bone almost came out of his skin! You're the oldest, Dick. You should know better." Dick scowled at his knees. Bruce rounded on Tim. "I expected more from _you_. This sure was stupid for such a smart kid." Tim's face was firetruck red. "And Steph, aren't you supposed to be the sensible one?" He raised his eyebrows. Steph glared up at him, her face mostly still turned to the floor.

"If you want sensible, you should talk to Barbara." She muttered.

"How sensible can _she_ be?" Jason interjected, "she's dating Dick."

"Rude," Dick muttered.

"Listen to me,” Bruce interrupted them. “This was a stupid, risky game. This is _not_ what I trained you for. Steph, Dick, I know you don't live here, bit I've confiscated your gear for the next week. Tim, you're grounded for two." Tim nodded miserably, Dick and Steph both made similar noises of disgust.

"Wait, what about me?" Jason asked.  "Aren't you disappointed in me too?" Bruce snorted.

"No, this is _exactly_ what I expect from you."

“You’re not even going to try to ground me?” Jason was bewildered, confused.

“Wouldn’t matter anyways. You’re gonna be off duty for at _least_ a month.” He smirked, indicating Jason’s cast and sling. Tim choked on his laugh at Jason’s horrified expression. Bruce stood, folded his arms as he scowled at the teenagers. “Make better choices next time.” Bruce left the room, leaving the door open. As his footsteps faded, the group let out a collective sigh of relief.

“That could have gone worse,” Dick mused.

“Says you,” muttered Tim. “I’m grounded for twice as long as you are.”

“Well, you’re not even an adult. I’m too old to be grounded.” Dick huffed.

“Apparently not,” Steph reminded him.

“Anyways,” interjected Jason, “we never finished our game.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting-,” Dick started.

“Of course not.” Jason interrupted, “but we still gotta decide who lost.”

“Um, pretty sure that was you,” said Steph.

“If I recall correctly,” Jason said snottily, “You had H.O.R.S..”

“And so did you,” Steph replied, obviously aggravated.

“This is why you asked me to judge, remember?” Tim cut in. “Jason actually just had H.O.R.; he hadn’t finished his jump yet when Bruce walked in.”

“He still fell,” protested Steph.

“But he fell _because_ of Bruce. I think he might’ve actually made that one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Sorry,” Tim shrugged.

“Fuck yeah,” Jason said under his breath.

“Guys, I think the Gazette is the real loser here,” Dick said, pretending seriousness.

“Fuck all of you,” Steph griped, “this shouldn’t even count.”

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Jason teased. Steph replied only with a glare.

“A bet’s a bet,” agreed Dick.

“Oh no, I didn’t say I wouldn’t hold up my end,” Steph said, “just that you guys are dicks, and we didn’t finish the game. I still think I coulda won. I’ll be over for dinner next week.” And on that note, she stood, cast one more dirty look at the three of them, and stalked out the door.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS Steph 100% has a weird daddy thing for Bruce trust me I'm a scientist. Also I was gonna have Jason lose at HORSE, but I really wanted to write this scene so you're welcome.

The following week, Steph did indeed come for dinner. The weather was nice, for Gotham. The sun was out and shining and only a few fluffy clouds obscured the bright sky. Golden light streamed through the dining room windows and it would have been entirely pleasant, if Steph hadn’t been in such a dark mood. She scowled at her silverware as the rest of the family filtered in. Jason, who had “invited” her, was on her left. Tim, Damian and Dick filed in to sit on the other side of the table. Bruce came in last, he passed behind Steph, squeezing her shoulder on his way by.

“Cheer up,” he said good-naturedly. Steph flushed.  

“Right,” she muttered. She tipped onto the back legs of her chair, balancing perfectly as she waited for Alfred to bring out food. He did, setting plates down, then moving to stand just behind her.

“I would appreciate it if you would sit properly please, Miss Brown. It would be a shame if you were to fall and break something.” He said.

From his tone, Steph honestly couldn’t tell if he meant a bone, or the chair.

“Sorry,” she sighed, letting the chair legs thump down onto the carpet. Jason snickered and she kicked him under the table. Steph glared, wishing that Babs was here, but no she’d had a family dinner, so Steph he was on her own.

Alfred’s cooking was as enticing as ever and the conversation was lively. Tim and Dick were engaged in a conversation about whether Superman or Batman would win in a fight. Tim was emphatically defending Batman, blushing brightly. Dick, who Steph was pretty sure had a crush on Supes, was detailing all the ways Big Blue could kill Batman with one hand. For his part, Bruce was busily pretending not to hear, suspiciously intent on his food. Jason followed their conversation with interest, interjecting rude or inflammatory comments when things looked like they would calm down. Well this was as good a time as any, Steph thought. She sighed.

“Pass the salt, daddy?” She bit her lip hard. The conversation across the table faltered.

“Sure, Selina,” Bruce muttered, without looking up. He placed the salt in her hand, slowly raising his eyes to meet hers as comprehension dawned.  Tim choked and Dick, howling with laughter, had to pound him on the back. Steph’s mouth hung slightly open, her face almost purple. Jason was laughing so hard, he was in danger of falling off his chair. A soft flush was creeping over Bruce’s pale cheeks. Damian was yelling that he didn’t understand the joke and demanding someone tell him, but no one paid him any attention. Bruce and Steph were still staring at each other.

“P-pardon?” She finally sputtered, unable to break eye contact.

"Sorry, can we just-," Bruce coughed.

"Pretend this never happened? Yup"

"Ok,"

"Ok," Steph said quickly. Still red, Bruce concentrated on his food, wolfing it down in an effort to escape as quickly as possible.

Damian was now sulking very loudly. Dick had returned to eating between occasional snickers. While Jason leaned in and gleefully whispered in her ear.

“We are _never_ gonna let you forget this,”

His grin only grew as Steph punched his shoulder. _He’d_ probably have a bruise, but Steph would have lasting psychological damage, so Jason was pretty sure he’d won.

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it


End file.
